We need adversity in order to grow
If you thrash a sword upon a rock, you may blunt or break the blade. If you keep a sword in its sheath, you never know what it can do. Likewise, if a man recklessly careens himself from trial to tribulation, he will eventually falter and break. Yet if a man fecklessly avoids all challenge or difficulty, he will wither away, untested and unfulfilled.
When many first approach Stoicism, they do so hoping to better handle adversity. They are lulled into a false sense of serenity by misinterpreting the mistranslated “Dichotomy of Control” to mean that we must simply accept our fate. And in that facade of quiet cowardice, we shrivel from the person we can truly become. That defensive form of Stoicism is not a suit of armour that protects our peace of mind – it is our tomb that we gladly enter before our days are done.
Through Stoicism, we understand that our purpose is to live a vibrant and flourishing life in the company of others. Look at the great women and men of history and tell me: did they not all face adversity? How can you expect yourself to flourish if you do not know what it is to suffer or fail? Seneca, ever the wordsmith, said as much to his dear friend Lucilius:
I judge you unfortunate because you have never lived through misfortune. You have passed through life without an opponent – no one can ever know what you are capable of, not even you. - Seneca, On Providence
To flourish is to struggle
Stoicism is not meant to be a shield from the world. It is a set of guiding principles that help us navigate the world as it is – through tragedy and triumph alike – in a morally excellent manner. The sword that remains in the sheath cannot be sharpened further. But in steel striking steel, we may find our blade knick-ridden and dull. And so what if our blade breaks? So what, indeed. The blade is just the instrument – we have also sharpened ourselves through the practice.
Just as Stoicism does not demand of us a withdrawal from challenge, it does not command us to make life more difficult than it has to be. Instead, Stoicism calls for us to live our lives unafraid of facing adversity. Because though we may struggle, it is in the struggling that we learn. By applying technique and principle to our struggle, we do so in a way that promotes growth and puts us on a path toward excellence.
Our character, then, is like a well-worn blade; we can thoughtfully apply a whetstone to restore its cutting edge. Through this constant practice and honing, we find ourselves ready to face whatever tempest and turbulence with which we must contend. As Stoics, we must not allow ourselves to be timid and tame. Moral excellence never comes from passivity. It is through the discipline of action, committing ourselves to be an active participant in the cosmos, and bringing ourselves in accordance with its nature that we can find strength.
Take the helm of your life and steer
You may think of Zeno of Citium, once a successful merchant who made a living selling precious inks and dyes across the Aegean archipelago. He found his fortunes dashed upon the rocky shores near Athens; the ship containing his valuables shattered by stormy seas. And yet, he persisted and realized that the true value of his life would never be found in ink or the silver he could earn by selling it. Had he heard the following adage, he likely would have chuckled, having learned the lesson well already:
A ship is safe in harbour, but that’s not what ships are for. - John Augustus Shedd, Salt from My Attic
It is a lesson we can take to heart as well. Trite though it may seem, our lives are not bottled up into tiny ink jars on a ship. Our lives are not the vessel that clatters against waves. Our lives are made up in the voyage from one harbour to the next. It is in learning how to adjust sails to wind, when to row and when to brace, and finding our footing on deck despite sloshing seas. If you never venture out, you will never see how far you can go.